


Letters to Viktor

by notADWarrick



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Art, Bisexuality, F/M, Fluff, Letters, Love, M/M, Multi - Freeform, Paris - Freeform, Polyamory, Smut, Threesome, Triad - Freeform, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-06-12 19:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15347232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notADWarrick/pseuds/notADWarrick
Summary: Had a dream about Paris, and I woke up and started this fic. Ron recently came out to Hermione as bisexual, and after a weekend in Paris, they decide to write Viktor Krum a letter, in hopes of a little whole hearted consensual experimentation. Hilarity, Romance, and some serious wordsmithing ensue, as well as some very steamy bedroom action. Here's my trash ass OT3 I hope you all like it.





	1. A Rainy Day in Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Hermione on a date in Paris while the kid's are at Harry's. Summer before the World Cup. Some good luvin, a few bad pick up lines, because why not.

 

         Hermione traced her thumb around Ron’s as they sat gazing out the window of the café and onto the street. Rain pattered on the cobblestoned pavement, and even the air in the café felt heavy with humidity. Ron gazed at Hermione lovingly, waiting awhile to break the comfortable silence between them. Hermione studied the people rushing by outside, their heads tipped down under their big rain jackets and umbrellas. She could feel the cold sweat of her iced coffee dripping onto her fingers, and hear the buzzing of baristas and customers around her.

          “What are you thinking about?” asked Ron, his voice seeming to wander to her out of the clutter of noise.

          “Viktor.” Hermione replied “He once told me he wanted to visit Paris with me in a letter, and I used to love imagining it, sometimes, when I was mad at you. Then, you always ended up taking his place, holding my hand in the Louvre as I studied the Mona Lisa.”

          “Really?” said Ron “What’s the Louvre? Whose Mona Lisa? Should I worry about her?” Hermione smiled, and laughed.

          “It’s a Museum Ron, and the Mona Lisa is a painting. One of the most famous paintings in the world. Of course you don’t have to _worry_ about her.”

          “Well then, let’s live the dream then!” said Ron. “Take me to the Louvre and teach me about muggle art. Although I can’t promise I’ll really remember much of it. We are on vacation after all. And Harry said he’d keep Rose and Hugo till the end of the weekend.” Hermione bit her bottom lip, Ron beamed at her, and she ran her hand further up Ron’s arm, tracing the scars there for just a second before standing up and pulling him with her.

          “Well then Mr. Ron Weasley, show me the romance of Paris.” They kissed for a moment, left a generous tip on the table, and strolled out into the light drizzle, holding hands.

          They found the subway without much trouble, and as the car whizzed along the underground tracks Hermione thought again of Viktor.

          “Do you ever wonder what happened to him? After the war?” Ron asked Hermione, over the din of the train. “You know, the last time I saw him, it was Bill and Fleur’s wedding.”

          “Yeah, he was still keen on me then, I remember.” Hermione laughed “I heard him tell Harry all the good ones were taken.” Hermione blushed. Ron replied.

          “He was right. You looked beautiful in gold. I wish we hadn’t had to run that night.” Ron placed his hand on the small of Hermione’s back, keeping her steady as the car jostled. 

          “Me too.” Hermione said. “Maybe I’ll write to him again. I miss the visits we used to have. We’ve always been friends. You don’t think he’d be too annoyed if Pig delivered him a letter would he? I haven’t written in a while.”

          “Well, Pig annoys everyone, Hermione, but seeing it’s from you I don’t think he’d mind. I remember very well how much he fancied you. It rather put me off. I always thought you’d go for him in the end.”

          “Really?” said Hermione, as the train jostled to a stop, and they stepped out of the car and into the underground station.

          “Yeah, although, looking back on it I think I might have been intimidated by him because I fancied him a bit too. Big quidditch star and all. I was a little jealous of you both.” A smile crept across Ron’s heavily freckled face, and Hermione laughed loud enough that it echoed off the tiled walls of the station. She squeezed Ron’s hand affectionately.

          “Well, I never would have guessed,” said Hermione as they ascended the stone steps out into the late summer air. The clouds were moving on and the drizzle had stopped. Sun pebbled the pavement with gold light, and they walked on the sidewalk, heading in the direction they hoped was right, still focused on each other. They were silent for awhile as they strolled, but as they closed into their destination, Hermione spoke again.

          “You know, I think Ginny said something about him still playing quidditch for Bulgaria. You know the World Cup is coming up.” Ron nodded in acknowledgement. Hermione continued. “Maybe I’ll see if he wants to come have tea one weekend, or something like that. Would that be okay? I’m sure he could use some family. Or a familiar face. You know he never talked about his family much, he didn’t seem to get along well with them. Even when we wrote after the war.”

          “Of course.” Said Ron, reassuringly. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the prism of windows, rising from the concrete before them.

          “That, Ron, is the Louvre. Or at least the entrance.” Ron’s eyes widened.

          “How? They built that without magic?” asked Ron.

          “Yes,” replied Hermione. “Everything inside this museum is made by muggles, at least to my knowledge. I won’t say without magic, though. Muggles make their own magic in a way, with art, and this place is full of it.” They walked inside, descending the steps. Voices echoed off the glass pyramid above them, and their hands never separated as they walked, listening, and observing. Hermione gesticulated as they wandered, talking about the pieces she knew, wondering about the pieces she didn’t, and Ron listened, fascinated by her knowledge, her smile.

          A crowd was gathered around _The Birth of Venus_ , per the usual, and as they approached, weaving through the small mass of bodies, Hermione became silent. At last they both stood in front of it, studying it. In unison, their eyes traced the delicate floral patterns, the curves of the goddess’s body, of the sea shell she stood on. Ron slipped his hand around Hermione’s waist, and whispered to her, over the rustling of the people around them.

          “Almost as beautiful and magical as you,” Hermione laughed.

          “Gross.” She said, and swatted at him, but her dark brown eyes were brighter than ever. “Let’s go home”, she said to Ron, her hand insistent on his side. “I want something to eat, and I insist we not use all our weekend at museums." They snuck away, found an empty room, and aparated back to the front gate of the house that they owned in Ottery St. Catchpole. Old toys littered the yard, from when the kids were younger, and a garden gnome peeked from behind the bushes by the front steps. The sun was out here too, even if the air was a little chillier. They walked through the wood front door, set their things down, and Hermione began to make some dinner. Ron heated up a kettle, and fixed them tea, and listened as Hermione sizzled sausage on the stove. Before long the kitchen smelled wonderful, and they both sat down for their meal.

           “Your favorite,” said Hermione “bangers and mash.” Ron already had his mouth full, but mumbled a thank you around a scoop of mashed potatoes. Hermione smiled. She leaned over him, and whispered in his ear.

            “Eat quickly”. A smirk flitted across her face. Ron did not hesitate. Swallowing the bite he had taken, he stood, and kissed her ferociously. Hermione could feel his tongue dart out, skimming across her front teeth, and could feel his hand, firm on her back, holding her flush against him. She kissed him back.

          “Dinner can wait.” Ron said, took her in his arms, and carried her to the bedroom. “at least for you,” and he winked. Ron set Hermione on their bed, and as she sat at the foot of it he knelt, running his hands slowly up her legs, savoring every inch of fabric covered skin he touched.

          “May I?” he asked Hermione

          “You still have to ask?” Hermione replied

          “Every time.” Hermione unbuttoned her jeans and Ron pulled them away from her slowly, nipping at her neck as he did so. A soft moan escaped Hermione’s lips. She rose up her arms and Ron pulled her sweater over her head. He laughed.

          “You wore the matching set today,” he said, and Hermione blushed, looking at him mischievously as she slid the black lace underwear down her dark legs.

          “Yes I did. Now come back,” Hermione replied.

          “Maybe,” laughed Ron “I think I might just paint you just like this. Think my stick figures would make the Louvre?” He inquired.

          “Maybe as modern art,” said Hermione. Ron stroked his chin. In a very pompous voice he said

          “And here we see the Minister of Magic, naked, waiting as her husband plans exactly where to put his tongue.” He knelt, and crept towards her. Hermione laughed again, but stopped, as Ron pulled her to the edge of the bed, and slowly began to circle his thumb around her center, watching her face as he did so. Her head was thrown back, and one of her hands tangled in his shaggy red hair. He could see her chest rise as she took in a gulp of air, right as he brushed where he knew from many year’s practice, her clit was. He knew what she loved. He had made an art of it. He spread her legs further apart, and began sliding one finger into her, slowly, still watching as she bit her lip. In and out he moved his finger with her breath, and then began to use his tongue. He circled her clit with it, wanting to keep her close to the edge, but not push her over just yet. He moved his finger in and out again, waited, and then added a second, delicately.

          “Harder this time,” Hermione gasped above him, and he did as he was asked, moving his fingers faster. He searched for a second, and began to roll her clit across his tongue. Her moans now filled the room, seeming to bounce around with the evening sunlight that caught in the canopy above their bed. Her fingers tightened in Ron’s hair.

          “Fuck. Ron. Fuck. Fuck me. Get up, I want you inside me, now.”  Ron obliged, and stood quickly, his fingers still stroking her. He took off his jeans and boxers, threw his t-shirt in corner, and laid down on the bed. When her voice was like that, Ron knew that she wanted to be on top, to see him undone, and every time, it made him come all the harder, to see her watching him, loving him. Hermione straddled him, and lined herself up above him. With one smooth motion she took him, tossing her head back. The light caught in her dark curls, and Ron kneaded her ass, moaning with relief. She moved on top of him, fucking him into her without abandon, her hands clenched on his scarred freckled chest. He felt her clench around him and come as he rubbed her clit, sending her over the edge. He brushed the hair from her face when she paused for breath, and she took his hand, again tracing the ropey scars along his arm, still slowly fucking him. He mumbled, and smiled, eyes closed.

          “’Mione,” he said, “Do that thing that I like.”

         “Which one?” Hermione mumbled seductively in his ear, tugging his earlobe with her teeth. She knew. Her hand already traced closed to one of his plump ass cheeks.

         “You know which one,” Ron replied.

         “Not going to think of any quidditch stars while I do it are you?” Hermione giggled, her mouth still next to his ear, her hand now under Ron’s ass, a finger tracing his lower back as it arched from the bed.

         “Not for you to know” Ron said, and winked again. Hermione reached into the dresser drawer, grabbed the lube they kept there, and rubbed some on her fingers. They rolled to the side, readjusted and began to fuck slowly again, Hermione’s leg slung above Ron’s hip. She teased him, just slightly, tracing her finger delicately down his crack, leaving a small trail of wetness. She could feel him tense when she reached his entrance, but soon he relaxed as Hermione took his full length inside of her. She pressed her finger in and could see Ron’s face tighten as he thrust into her, a loud moan escaping him. She took her time. She knew he loved this, that it made him come quickly, and she fully intended to savor every inch of him, just as he did her. She moved her finger in and out of him with his own thrusts into her, letting him guide her, and slowly added another finger, when he felt ready. All at once, She curled her fingers just right, and hit the spot that he loved. She was glad the kids weren’t home, for surely now, Ron’s moan of pleasure would have been loud enough to wake them. Ron felt his balls tighten, and knew he was close. With one last pulse of Hermione’s finger’s and one last thrust of Ron’s, he came, his head buried in Hermione’s sweet smelling curls. They took a second, breathing, feeling each other, before pulling out of and away. They lay there, spent, for a minute, before Hermione rose, took Ron’s hand, and pulled him with her.

        “Dinner’s getting cold,” she said. She pulled on a t-shirt of Ron’s and Ron tugged on his boxers, and they both wandered to the kitchen, washed up, and ate ravenously. When they were done, and had begun to sip the now slightly cold tea, Ron looked intensely at Hermione.

        “I have a big favor to ask you,” he said. Hermione’s eyebrows raised

       “Well I already fingered you tonight so that’s off the list,” She replied. Ron chuckled.

       “I want to write Viktor a letter. I want…I thought, I want to experiment, I want to know what it’s like with another man. But I want you there, I want you, I want you to watch, I want your comfort, and your love. But I want…” He trailed off, his thoughts seemingly to complicated to express. Hermione studied her husband, the plain white china tea cup in his hand, the way his legs stretched out under the dining table, the way his shoulders slumped, this heavy thing set upon him.

      “We can write it together Ron,” said Hermione softly, and she got up, rubbed her thumbs into the strained muscles in his shoulders. “We can wait till the right moment to send it too. Maybe March. But we’re not asking for that in the first letter. Give it time. You may not like him after all. It’s been a long time since either of us spoke to him.”

       “Mm” Ron mumbled, in what seemed to be agreement. He stood, and rummaged in the kitchen drawers until he found a pen and pencil.

       “Then let’s start.” When he sat again, Hermione sat in his lap, and Ron reached around her, and they began to write

 


	2. Something of a Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No smut in the chapter, just a little story development and fluff. Will update again soon. Hope you enjoy the little details I included. There's a bit of a time jump.

 

          Viktor was sitting in his armchair by the window, watching the light snow flakes fly in the night when he saw the tiny little owl swooping towards his cabin. He wasn’t used to mail. He liked the silence, the away-ness. The pitch was so loud, and tonight, he needed the silence, and the fire, and the soft late spring snow. It was the kind he knew would start to melt soon, and he smiled, thinking of the green grass that would appear in another month. The owl hovered for a second, twittering, just in front of him through the closed window, and then tapped its beak on the glass. He opened the frame, just for a minute, so it could fly in, and then closed it, not wanting to let the Bulgarian cold in. The owl flew around his head once, and then landed on the arm of his chair, and stuck it’s leg out, offering a letter that was almost as big as it was. He looked at the seal it bore. _Hermione_. He thought. A surprise. But a welcome one. He smiled, and got up to find a treat for the owl, which was now preening. He grabbed a few crackers from the pantry and set them by the owl, who nibbled them contentedly, and broke open what felt like a long awaited letter.

 

          _Dear Viktor,_

_I, that is, we, are writing to you with an inquiry._

 

Viktor stopped for a second and wondered what the “we” meant, but then assumed the rest of the letter would tell him. He Kept reading.

 

_Is Bulgaria still competing in the World Cup? If so, do you have accommodations already? Ron and I already have an open space in our tent. We were having a laugh the other day, about the Tri-wizard Tournament, and how on earth Harry ever won, and I realized I never really formally introduced you, and I thought how silly that was. He mumbled something about an autograph you gave him. Anyway, We think it could be a good time, and I know how anxious you get around match time. Good company never fails to relieve stress, and to be honest I’m missing yours. I know you love firewhiskey, I’ll bring an extra bottle if you like. For old times._

_Send your reply at leisure, and all our love_

 

_Hermione & Ron_

 

                  Viktor read, and reread. He had forgotten how much he loved the way Hermione curled in the ends of her e’s. It felt cryptic, and technically, he had a spot in the team tent, but still. An interesting proposal. And a chance to see Hermione. Few people in life aroused the romantic interest of Viktor Krum, and although he got many proposals, he preferred mostly to be alone. But, Hermione. Hermione Granger, with her soft brown skin, and her wide smile, and the kind of dark eyes that could pull you into their depths never to return. He remembered the one time they had kissed, after the second task. Her clothes had clung to her body, and her usually bouncy curls were soaked. Still, the ferociousness of her lips on his, he could almost feel it again as he thought about it. How she had pulled him tight against her, keeping the cold out. The feeling of the lake water seeming to steam off of the flush on his cheeks as it dripped down his face. The weak sunlight sparkling off of her as she pulled away from him. He missed her. Missed her laugh, and the way she crinkled her nose when she read something she didn’t understand. More than romance, she was right, she was the best company.

                  And he remembered Ron. Tall and gangling, but attractive, with more freckles than you could count. He always liked Ron from afar, but mostly because he made Hermione laugh. Viktor loved the way she laughed. He remembered Bill and Fluer’s wedding, how Ron had danced with her. The look of absolute adoration in Ron’s eyes as he held her. Viktor had known it was over by then. He remembered the hurt. But he also remembered Hermione’s visits and letters after the war, and the loving way she talked of Ron and their children. Viktor's friendship with her had never really ended, but Hermione’s job had taken over her time, and Viktor’s determination about the world cup was insatiable, and kept him running from one match to another. 

                  That loss, all those years ago still stung. He could feel the defeat still sometimes. The weak fluttering of the snitch in his hand. Shame. He shook it off. Maybe- Maybe this time, they could be the good luck that he needed. So he gave Pigwidgeon a few more treats, got out his quill, and began to write as the snow slowly melted outside.

 

⁕⁕⁕

 

          Ron awoke to a tapping on the window. It was drizzling, and Pig was having a hard time staying aloft, he was so heavy with rain. The note tied to his leg was not thick, but still Ron’s heart leapt. He untangled himself from the sleeping Hermione and let in the owl. Pig swooped around the room excitedly, flapping his wings to shake of the rain droplets.

          “Get over here you little git.” Mumbled Ron in his half-awake state. Pig perched on his shoulder and stuck out the leg with the small roll of parchment.

 

          _Bring the firewhiskey, and you’ve got a deal_

_Viktor_

 

The ink was smudged. Hermione had awoken, sat up, and began to read the note over Ron’s shoulder

          “Definitely Viktor” she said, and smiled. Ron set the note on the bed, and kissed her.


	3. Just enough Firewhiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy valentines day fuckers, hope you all have a good wank and some expensive icecream. sorry it took me so long.

            Viktor apparated into the designated spot outside the campground and breathed in the smell of the sweet midsummer air. Excitement was everywhere. Even in his exhausted state, from matches back to back to back in the hot desert air, Viktor could feel the energy starting to seep into his very bones.

 

            He drew his traveling cloak tight around him. He did not want to be recognized just yet. He looked around, and when he found the attendant, walked to him and asked quietly

 

           “Campsite for Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley?” His normally rich voice was rough and gravelly, from many weeks of yelling, practicing nonstop. The attendant didn’t look up at first, but when he did, he blinked a few times confusedly, and shook his head before he pointed to the left and said,

 

           “Fourth area down that path, close to the water spigot, VIP area. Tent is magenta.”

           “Thank you” replied Viktor, and went on his way. The Argentinian sand was hot under his boots, but the temperature was mild, and as he walked he studied the lavishly decorated tents. He had not had much time between running from his matches to his practices to the many public events required of him to really look at the campsite, and now he eyed each new area with fervor. Someone’s albino peacock squawked outside a large dark emerald tent. Another tent was so big it seemed more like a circus tent, with red and white stripes.He saw A bird bath here, a campfire with green flames there, and he hadn’t even gotten close the area where the team mascot’s were being kept. Everything was undoubtedly full of magic. It all felt strangely like home.

 

            The whole campsite seemed to go on forever. Miles and miles in each direction. So he strolled, until he reached the small magenta tent settled on a fairly unexciting patch of scrub. It was evening, growing close to dusk, and he stood a little ways back, in the shadow, studying Ron for a moment, poking at the campfire with his wand, trying to cook a set of sausages. Ron cursed under his breath and ducked into the tent, returning a moment later with Hermione in tow. She put an arm around Ron's waist.

 

           “It just takes a minute. It’s not like with magic where they cook instantly.” Hermione said to Ron, as Ron looped his arm around her shoulder. Ron glanced down, blushing.  “Just be patient,” Hermione said, and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled, and squeezed her shoulders. Viktor smiled too, watching them. He stepped from the shadows.

 

           “Hermi-ow-nee!” Viktor called. She turned and smiled, and ran to him, tackling him in a hug.

 

           “Viktor” she said softly. They stayed like this for a minute, taking each other in. Hermione’s hair was shorter than he had last seen it, and she stood straighter. Viktor was no longer in his twenties, and it was obvious, but it seemed he had grown into his surliness well, and a smile curved across his lips. He no longer had the shaved head of his youth either, but a short wave of very dark brown hair with streaks of grey covering his head.

 

            Ron sidled up, a nervous grin on his face, his hands in his pockets. He had grown too, Viktor noticed. He was no longer so gangling, but had filled out a little, and had more scars than Viktor remembered traced along his arms, moving through the freckles there like a river. He had an easy grace now too, even though his hair had begun to thin, and was not the awkward youth Viktor remembered, but a man, settled, content, loved.

 

           Viktor’s sly smile turned into a grin of its own accord and he walked forward, hugging Ron as well.

 

           “It is so good to see you both” Viktor stepped back and shuffled his feet a little, his deep voice crackling. “Your letter was unexpected but welcome. I believe I was promised fireviskey?” True to his word, Ron flicked his wand, and a bottle flew out of the tent. Viktor caught it easily and studied it. It was heavy and amber and clearly strong but well matured. Ogdens. Ron smiled.

 

           “I took a guess on what you liked”

 

            “Perfect” Viktor replied. The three of them sat around the campfire, and waited for the food to finish. Hermione poured them each a glass of whiskey. Ron sipped his slowly.

 

           “What have the games been like?” Ron asked Viktor, his eyes still watching the flames.

 

            “Exhausting” replied Viktor, taking a slug from his own glass, “Each new game is a whole team of moves to study, and my beaters are growing old, although I love them.”

 

          “Dragonov and Vulkanov, yeah?” Ron said.

 

         “Yes” said Viktor.

 

        “You’d think that with a name like Dragonov he’d be more aggressive, but they vere no match for those Japanese beaters. We barely scraped through.”

 

       “Mm,” Hermione nodded, “but it was such a wonderful game. I thought it was very brave of Vulkanov to take that bludger for you.”

 

       “It vos.” said Viktor, and fell silent, lost in thought. The evening sounds creeped in around them.

 

        Hermione reached over and took Ron’s hand in her own, lacing their fingers together, and rubbing her thumb around his knuckle affectionately. A crop of voices moved closer, and Viktor could hear a light airy laugh among them. Ron looked at Hermione and smiled

        “We invited a few friends over for drinks,” Ron replied to Viktor’s questioning look. Luna, Rolf, Neville, Hannah, and Harry appeared. Neville had his arm slung around Hannah’s shoulders, and Luna carried another bottle of Firewhiskey in one hand, while her other was attached to Rolf’s.

 

        “You must be Viktor” Luna said softly, and smiled at him. She held out the hand that had been holding Rolf’s. “I don’t know if you remember me, from Bill and Fleur's wedding.”

 

        “ I do,” replied Viktor, taking her hand and kissing it. She blushed. “You wore a very bright yellow dress. It vos vunderful.”

 

        “Thank you,” replied Luna. She handed the bottle of firewhiskey to Hermione, who waved her wand, produced a few more cups, and filled them.

 

        The night crept in slowly, and before long, it was just the fire lighting their small group as they laughed and drank.The more firewhiskey Viktor had, the more the world seemed right, and the more the heat in the air seemed to buzz around him with amusement. It felt almost like the beginning of a quidditch match. Viktor sat next to Ron, and as he watched Harry animatedly telling the story about his first date with Cho Chang, he decided to test something. Slowly, but surely, Viktor let his hand drift closer to Ron’s, until their fingers brushed together almost imperceptibly. The firelight was making Ron's face light up in the most wonderful way when he laughed, and Viktor could not help but want to touch him. As their hands brushed, Ron glanced at him. But, Ron did not pull away, and a mischievous smile flicked across his face before Ron returned his gaze to Hermione, who was laying with her head in his lap.

        Harry finished his story, and after a gale of laughter and a short silence, Viktor grinned and said,

 

        “Who vunts to play a game of truth or dare?” His eyes twinkled, and he made eye contact with each person around the circle in turn.

 

        “I do” chimed in Harry. Luna raised her hand, and Rolf next to her nodded quietly, his tortoiseshell framed glasses sliding a little down his nose. Neville bellowed a laugh and replied with a hearty

 

        “Yes!” Hannah kissed him quietly on the cheek, stood, and said

 

        “I should go. I’m sleeping in tent with the kids tonight to make sure they don’t get up to anything.” She wandered away.

 

        “Who vunts to go first?” Viktor said.

 

        “Me” said Harry, giving Viktor his best attempt at a slightly drunk, but daring look.

 

        “Truth or Dare then, Potter.” Viktor replied

 

        “Dare” Harry said, without hesitation. Viktor smirked, something he did not do often. He was enjoying this. Harry poured himself another shot, and drank it. Viktor motioned to Harry, and whispered something in his ear. Harry let out a gale of laughter. He arose from his spot by the campfire and walked over to the nearby magenta tent. He searched it with his eyes for a moment before spotting a green beetle with oddly specific spectacle markings. Without warning, Harry mooned the beetle, waving his white ass right in front of it. Rita Skeeter, so shocked she could no longer hold herself back, transformed into her human form. The campsite seemed to explode, Ron spit out half the beer he was drinking on the fire and the group laughed so hard, Harry’s words almost couldn’t be heard.

 

        “I’ve finally got some words for you Rita,” he exclaimed drunkenly “No comment”. She ran, found out. Even the real moon, hanging in the sky seemed to laugh.

 

        The game went on. Harry dared Ginny to drink three shots in a row, for it seemed she was behind. Ginny asked Neville, who chose truth, but had to tell the very embarrassing story of his first kiss. Neville asked Luna, who also chose truth, and with some prying, told them about the time she snogged Padma Patil behind Hagrid’s hut in the forbidden forest. The story was so dreamy they all almost got lost in it. Then of course, Luna swung it back to Harry, who again, chose dare. Luna pondered for a moment, looking at the stars. Rolf rubbed her shoulders. It seemed he was less interested in playing the game and more interested in watching her.

 

        “I dare you,” she said to Harry, “To tell me, and only me, what you call Ginny in bed.” Harry turned beet red. This was obviously not what he expected, and it seemed to sober him, if only a little. Slowly he leaned in, and whispered something very softly in Luna’s ear. Luna let out a peal of laughter, and winked at Ginny. “Nice.” Luna said. It seemed though, that Harry had not relinquished this secret for nothing. A wicked grin spread across his face, and he looked at Ron, whose fingers were now almost interlaced with Viktor’s. Ron of course, had not been paying attention to anything. He startled as he heard his name come from Harry’s mouth.

 

        “Ron. I dare you to kiss Viktor. On the mouth” It was Ron’s turn to blush. He should never have told Harry about this particular fantasy. Viktor looked at Ron, and again a smile graced the sharp angles of his face, making it seem softer in the flickering light. Ron took his hand away from Viktor’s hand and placed it on Viktor’s cheek. Hermione sat up, and watched with intent focus. Ron waited, leaning in slowly, thinking to give Viktor time to back out, if he wanted to. To his surprise, Viktor leaned in and met him, almost crashing their lips together. His stubble was rough against Ron’s face, which was a new and wonderful feeling, but his lips were soft, pliable. Ron nipped at Viktor’s bottom lip, and a soft rumble arose from Viktor’s throat.

 

        “Merlin’s beard, come up for air you shit, I said kiss him not snog him so hard he falls in the campfire he’s got a match to play tomorrow.” Harry exclaimed, his glasses now slightly askew. Hermione sat agape next to the two of them. Ron and Viktor pulled away, Ron, if possible, even redder than before. Viktor glanced at the pebbled sand below him, but still smiled. They sat closer together now, heat radiating between them.

 

        “Well I don’t know how anyone can follow that act.” Neville proclaimed. A collective groan emanated from the group. Neville was usually the one to scurry them all off to bed on nights like this. It seemed Luna and Rolf were already slipping away into the night anyways.

 

        “One more dare.” Ron said. The group went silent. Hermione looked at him curiously. “Viktor, I dare you finish the firewhiskey.” Viktor picked up the bottle without hesitation. There was a little less than a quarter left. He tipped it into his cup, finished it, and leaned towards Ron again. Almost everything else but Ron seemed to fall away. Again they kissed, a little more ferociously this time. Ron could taste the cinnamon of the firewhiskey, and feel Hermione’s hand placed softly on his thigh. When again the two of them came back to the world, it seemed everyone but Hermione had begun to wander off, now involved in their own shenanigans. For a minute all three of them looked at one another, wondering what was next. Hermione rose.

 

        “Late night tea in the tent boys?” she said, with a wicked smile. Ron cast a swift nonverbal aguamenti charm on the fire, soaking it, but leaving the coals to smolder. Viktor walked with Hermione as Ron put out the fire, and as Ron turned to watch them, he could see Viktor’s fingers brush Hermione’s, just as they’d first brushed his. Ron saw, in that moment, that this man that he idolized, sexualized, was asking, in his way, for the two of them. Ron followed slowly, enjoying the short walk. Ron paused at the tent entrance, thinking to let the two of them have a minute. He watched the lights of the surrounding area dance in the heat and let his mind wander over the great expanse of the sky and the stars. The only thing that brought him back to earth was Hermione’s voice.

 

        “Are you coming?” Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder.

        “Hopefully!” Ron let out a loud laugh, and swept her off her feet, ducking into the tent with her. Hermione yelped, but clung to him, laughing.

        “Viktor!” He bellowed “I’ve brought you a gift from the library!” Hermione swatted at him playfully,

        “Hush!” she said quietly, Viktor peeked around the tent flap to their bedchambers, one eyebrow raised, now wearing only the tight pants he wore under his quidditch robes.

        "Vell then” Viktor almost rumbled, “I accept this beautiful gift of a woman, if she vill accept me in return.” Ron set Hermione down in front of Viktor, and watched as their eyes met. She placed a soft hand on Viktor’s bare, muscled chest.

        “I accept” she whispered, and leaned in slowly. At first their lips just brushed, and Hermione was reminded of the kiss they had once shared by the black lake, but she soon forgot, as they leaned into one another, found something familiar and began to explore. She nipped at Viktor’s full bottom lip, just as Ron had, and Viktor reached his tongue out, swiping the bottom of her front teeth. She pressed her body against his, wanting. When they stepped apart, she realized it was not Viktor’s hand clutched in her left but Ron’s, and she almost fell against him in relief. Never in her wildest teenage dreams could she ever have imagined having them both, and now here they were, waiting. She had saved a surprise for them both. She almost bustled them into the bedroom, where a large queen bed lay.

        “I have a surprise.” she announced

        “Another surprise?” Viktor asked, again his eyebrow raised.

        “Yes.” Hermione mumbled, blushing.

        “Ooooooh” said Ron, his face lighting up.

        “You two get acquainted, I’m going to change into it.” Hermione almost shoo’d at them.  Ron’s smile broadened. One of his hands already lay lightly on Viktor’s waist. Viktor pulled him in. It seemed the tension from the campfire had not quite abated. They paused, face to face, in front of the bed, for a second, letting it wash over them before their lips crashed together, the hesitance from before gone.

        They fell into the bed, Viktor straddling Ron. Ron ran his hands up Viktor’s sides, relishing the new feeling of hard, lightly tanned muscle, such a deviation from the soft brown curves of Hermione’s that he was used too. Viktor pulled away from their kiss, and slipped his light delicate fingers under the hem of Ron’s old chudley cannon’s t-shirt. He stopped, feeling the soft expanse of Ron’s chest, and nipping at Ron’s ear playfully before tugging Ron's shirt off. Viktor’s eyes ran over every freckle, as if he was attempting to choose which one he liked the best. He leaned in, slowly this time, and kissed Ron deeply. Viktor could feel Ron’s hands running along his thighs, and could feel the bulge of hardness starting to form in Ron’s jeans. He lifted his face away from Ron’s, and ran a hand down Ron's sternum. He watched as Ron shivered visibly beneath him. Then Viktor felt a hand unlike Ron’s at all creep rest on his shoulder. Hermione leaned in, whispering in his ear.

        “Turn around” Viktor unseated himself, and sat on the end of the bed. Ron sat up. Hermione stood before both of them, the soft lantern radiating light off her skin, in only a lacy maroon lingerie set. Ron, clearly, could barely contain himself. He reached for her, but stopped at the last minute, slowing. Viktor rose as well, and together they studied her for a second longer before diving in. Ron fell to his knees before her, and Viktor leaned in, biting at her neck softly as he reached for her breasts. He has never seen her like this, had only imagined it, frustrated, as he lurked in the corners of the library. Ron kissed at her thighs first, and held her hips, running his thumbs over the familiar V into her center. He could already hear her muffled moan from above him. He opened his eyes, to look at her face, as he always did, and then realized what else now lay just below his eye level. Viktor, apparently was greatly enjoying himself. Ron now traced the fingers of one hand along Hermione’s panty line, teasing her, and with the other, reached for Viktor. Ron palmed Viktor, stroking him softly through his pants, to see what reaction this would elicit, and he was not disappointed, a low rumble came from above him. A calloused hand tangled in his hair. He undid the laces of Viktor’s trousers, as Viktor’s hand snuck into Hermione’s underwear, Ron could see, from the corner of his eye, Viktor’s finger, sliding slowly between Hermione’s parted thighs. Ron was not to be distracted though. He tugged Viktor’s trousers from around his waist, and freed his already hardened cock. Ron looked for a second, wondering what his plan of attack should be, when he heard an uncomfortable squeak escape Hermione. Ron stood.

        “Vat is it?” Viktor stopped his ministrations, and asked Hermione. He stepped out of his pants.

        “I…” Hermione stumbled a little with her words, something she never did. The boys waited. “You do things differently than Ron.” Blood rushed to her cheeks. Ron held her for a second and then turned  to Viktor.

        “Let me show you how.” Ron said to  Viktor softly before kissing him deeply. He then turned back to Hermione.

        “Lay down, when you’re ready” he nuzzled into her ear. She did so, and closed her eyes. Ron slid off her panties, and kissed up her thighs. He could see Viktor, as Viktor walked around the bed, sat cross legged, and propped Hermione’s head on his legs, attentive. Viktor massaged his hands through her curls as Ron began to kiss along the line of her stomach, reaching one finger between her folds, ever so gently. To Viktor he said

        “It took me time to learn what Hermione likes,” and Viktor felt her gasp beneath him, “Soft buildup. Time to adjust, and watch, and learn, because that is who she is.” Ron rubbed his thumb along her clit before leaning in, and running his tongue along her. The sound Hermione made, although absorbed by the soft fabric of the tent, made Viktor’s slightly softening cock jump back to attention. Ron reached for Viktor’s hand, and Viktor shifted slightly to the left. Viktor had almost forgotten the subtleties of this, the softness, for it had been a long time for him. Ron guided Viktor’s fingers at first, helping him find the the hard nub of Hermione’s clit. Ron moved Viktor’s hands slowly, showing him the rhythm that Hermione liked, and before he knew it, Viktor was the one between Hermione’s legs, watching her body respond to his every touch. Ron backed away for second, watching as Viktor slid his fingers delicately in and out of Hermione. Ron bent down, and kissed Hermione softly, at the same time massaging one of her breasts, pinching her nipple just slightly.

        “Viktor” Hermione moaned in a whisper. Viktor, at this, bent, kissed the curve of her hip, and laved his tongue along her center. Now he used both his mouth and his fingers, following along as she shifted her body, and told him where to go. Ron watched, fascinated. He had never been able to see Hermione’s expressions so intently while doing this himself, and marveled at the beauty and emotion that crossed her face so effortlessly. Before long, Viktor felt Hermione contract on his fingers, and he licked at her clit harder, moving her through her orgasm with grace. For a second all was quiet as the two of them rested but then, Hermione sat up from Ron’s lap and looked at them both, expectant.

        “Boys you need to make sure you’re taking care of yourselves too” She smiled, and moved to the side. Without warning, Viktor pounced upon Ron, seemingly insatiable. He pinned Ron’s hands above his head, and Ron gasped, thrusting his hips instinctually towards Viktor’s. Viktor kissed him ferociously, and Ron could feel Viktor’s cock, rubbing against the denim of the jeans he still had somehow not managed to remove. Swiftly Viktor took his hands from Ron’s wrists, and Ran his hands down Ron’s stomach to flip open the top button of Ron’s jeans.  Ron gasped, even at such minimal friction. He had not realized how desperate he was.

        “Do you want me to show you what Ron likes, Viktor?” Hermione whispered in Viktor’s ear.

        “Very much” rumbled VIktor. “He is to cute for his own good no?”

        “Agreed,” said Hermione, running her hand along Ron’s chest before toying just a little with his nipple. Again Ron thrust his hips, at the complete mercy of his two lovers. She then moved around, and tugged off his jeans, throwing them in the corner. Ron could see the wet spot where precum had leaked onto his white cotton boxers.

        “It seems you are excited” Viktor whispered seductively into Ron’s ear.

        “ _Yes_ ” Ron moaned as Viktor ran his fingers under the waistband of Ron’s boxers, and ground down against his omnipresent erection.

        “I am going to make you vait” Viktor said, still close to his ear. He moved off of Ron, and Ron felt Hermione’s familiar weight instead. As Viktor leaned in to ravage Ron’s mouth, Ron felt Hermione tug off his boxers, and stroke up his shaft.

 _"Heaven”_ he thought _“this is heaven”_. He reached for Viktor, stroking along his side as Hermione continued her ministrations. Steadily as if it was his own body, Ron held Viktor in his hand, and toyed with the head of Viktor’s cock before giving it a long stroke.

        “Come here” he mumbled to Viktor. Viktor rose, and knelt before Ron’s face. Ron took him in his mouth, savoring the saltiness, and swirled his tongue around Viktor’s girth. He was smaller than Ron just slightly in length, but slightly bigger in girth. With each stroke of Hermione’s hand, Ron took Viktor into his mouth, until he felt himself begin to dart to close to the edge. He sucked Viktor in one last time, swirling his tongue again, and when he stopped, he looked up to Viktor, whose head was thrown back in ecstasy. Hermione stopped. Ron scooted up, until he held Viktor’s face in his hands, and they were looking at each other.

        “Please.” Run mumbled “fuck me”. It was this moment that Viktor chose to take his time, knowing that he wanted to watch as Ron came undone. Hermione got up, conjured Viktor a bottle of lube, and handed it to him. Viktor knelt between Ron’s spread legs, and lifted him with strong arms. He poured the liquid on the fingers of his right hand, and stroked Ron’s anxious cock with his left. Hermione watched next to them in awe, already beginning to finger herself. Viktor drew his finger along Ron’s hole, feeling the tight band of muscle before testing it. He delicately slipped a finger in, finding Ron surprisingly ready. Ron’s hips bucked, and Viktor leaned down, and kissed his chest, slowly moving his finger in and out. Viktor waited until he could feel Ron thrusting into his hand before adding a second finger. He searched for a moment, but then found what he was looking for within Ron. a loud moan seemed to burst from Ron’s mouth, as Viktor found the right spot, and Viktor watched as Ron's cock jumped in response. Viktor scissored his fingers, spreading Ron a little. Ron seemed to be enjoying this teasing, and Viktor wanted to prolong it, and so he drew his fingers out a little before thrusting them back in and again finding Ron’s prostate. Viktor though, was enjoying this too much he thought, looking down at his own stiffness. He spread lube along his cock, moved his hips upward until he was aligned with Ron. Still Viktor asked,

        “Are you ready?”

        “Yes, “   Ron breathed out. As Ron breathed in, Viktor breached him, moving slowly. At first it was just his head, and Ron clenched just a little, before laying back, and enjoying the feeling of being filled. Viktor withdrew slightly, but then thrust again, moving in further. Viktor waited for a response from Ron.

        “Again," Ron said, wiggling against Viktor. Viktor did as asked, and moved with Ron, letting him control their motion, until Viktor felt himself hit Ron’s sweet spot again. It seemed they were meant to be together, for their rhythm matched up almost instantaneously. Both of them filled the night with moans, and Viktor went deeper, until he sheathed himself completely within Ron, thrust after trust, savoring the soft velvetyness that was Ron’s warmth. Hermione watched in awe as the two of them learned one another’s bodies, and toyed with herself, rubbing her clit just enough to feel good, but not enough to distract her from the beautiful sight before her. She could see the beads of sweat trickling along the tanned, toned, muscle of Viktor’s abs, and the way Ron’s body arched off the bed with each thrust. Ron's eyes fluttered, and she brushed the damp hair from his forehead. She kissed Ron then, her lips  light as a butterfly’s wings. Viktor was drawing close, and she moved up to him, holding his face in her hands. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, and as Viktor looked at her, he came, burying himself to the hilt in Ron with his lasts thrusts, and letting out a final exclamation of sound. He pulled away from Ron, and kissed him. Then, as she watched them kiss, Hermione climbed atop Ron and sunk his full length into her. Ron took her hips, not even having to see her to know what she wanted, and together they took each other. Ron reached down with one hand, and flicked Hermione’s clit expertly. Within seconds she came, and he along with her. Viktor was amazed, as he watched them. They created something so beautiful in their knowledge and love for each other, and he had the privilege to be part of it. As the three of them collapsed, staring at the tall ceilings of the maroon tent, they pulled the covers over themselves. They slept, limbs tangled together, sated. And as the sun lit the horizon, Viktor arose quietly, without waking them. He dressed in his quidditch robes, and left the two of them a note. When Ron and Hermione awoke, they found it on the dresser, a single owl feather next to it.

  


_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

 

_Thank you for the firewhiskey, and for the wonderful evening. May I come next week for tea?_

_Love,_

 

_Viktor_

  


        Together they read it, dressed, kissed, and went to watch the match.


End file.
